


Suspension of Disbelief

by vanilla_extract



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: ALONE LIKE IT WAS NOTHING, Canon Compliant, Crack, Gen, I wrote this because I literally lost sleep over Will sailing to europe, Missing Scene, Not only did i not get a beta for this i did not even read it before publishing, Someone Help Will Graham, Tagged T for swears, Takes place during S3, This Is STUPID, Will Graham has beautiful hair and is a hopeless romantic, Will Graham's Boat, and it was never again addressed, canon typical references to cannibalism, this fic is just me making fun of Will and whoever's idea it was for him to SAIL TO EUROPE ALONE, this is only crack please do not expect anything deep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25948228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanilla_extract/pseuds/vanilla_extract
Summary: The missing scene of what happened when Will tried to cross the Atlantic alone in a sailboat because I simply refuse to believe that just went smoothly. That scene broke my suspension of disbelief so hard that I couldn't sleep and I spent the whole morning writing this.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Sailing Skills
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33





	Suspension of Disbelief

Will had been standing on the deck of his boat with the winds blowing through his gorgeous hair looking dramatically towards the horizon for about half an hour before he started to get tired and a little bit hungry. He went below deck to look for his provisions and quickly realized that he, an upper-middle-class Virginian, was going to have to survive on the non-perishables he had packed for over a week. Mayhaps he had assumed his fishing skills would be of any use, but oh? What’s that? Oh yeah, he’s a  _ fly fisherman _ who is used to the Chesapeake Bay, which is very different from the fucking Atlantic Ocean. So canned goods it is. No fancy cooked human person meat either, that’d have to wait until he arrived in Florence to run away with his serial killer husband (if that’s what he was planning on after all. It seemed like one second he was on his way to catch a killer, and the next he was on his way to elope with one. To say the least, he has been confused lately).

To catch a killer… as this thought passed through Will’s head he suddenly realized something else vital: who was to say that Hannibal would even still be in Florence when he got there? He had, of course, chosen the single slowest method of travel across the Atlantic besides maybe swimming. Quickly, Will shook off his doubts. The drama and romance were obviously worth it. Hannibal would be waiting for him in Florence because, in a world where you can sail to Europe on a whim, everything works as it does in a dollar store romance. He had nothing to worry about.

Satiated, Will lounged for a few more hours and also did boat things that he definitely knows how to do. The sun was beginning to set and paint the sky in beautiful reds and golds. Ah yes, he thought, now this is what I was expecting from this trip. A languid and picturesque style of tiredness came over him and he yawned in a way that he could pull off because he was very attractive. He dropped the anchor for the night and then froze with another sudden revelation. Having never sailed across the Atlantic before, and being preoccupied with his multiple morality and identity crises, he had calculated the length of his journey by using the average speed of his yacht (21 mph) and the distance between Maryland and Italy; however, it had slipped his mind that he would not be able to sail while he slept, so instead of taking one week, the trip would probably more likely take two. And that’s if nothing went wrong. It was starting to look like he would need to stretch his food supplies a little.

He settled down for the night in the cramped and uncomfortable cabin huddled next to his food supplies (because an inexperienced sailor is pushing their skills sailing any boat over 35 feet single-handedly) and slept fitfully. He dreamed of a waterlogged feathered stag floundering in the salty waves.

The next morning, the winds started out strong, and Will’s mood began to improve. That is until those winds started blowing in storm clouds. For the first time that trip, he wondered why he didn’t just take a plane. At least this was no hurricane, he reasoned with himself, trying to stay optimistic. This wasn’t hurricane season yet, not that he had bothered to check. In fact, he had not bothered to gather any of the relevant weather maps, so eager had he been to cross the ocean (this does again beg the question of why he did not choose a faster mode of travel, but that’s beside the point).

Buffeted by the wind, Will scrambled to keep the boat afloat. At this point, he had decided to postpone the issue of actually staying on course. Of course, there was no GPS in the middle of the Atlantic, and it was quickly becoming clear that the sailing skills he had retained from the bays and gulfs of Louisiana did not also make him an expert navigator. 

The sky darkened, winds roared, and rain plummeted down covering the deck. Will wrestled with the ropes thinking about how regretful it was that Hannibal wasn’t there to see him be sexy in the rain. 

In the distance, the stag struggled before slipping beneath the salty water, and Will’s world was engulfed in the stinging cold of the ocean.

______

“Hello? Hello? Oh thank goodness you’re awake”

Will coughed up saltwater and opened his eyes finding himself on the deck of an unfamiliar ship. A young lady in a navy blue uniform was leaning over him.

“Who are you?” Where am I?” He asked.

“I am a member of the US coast guard; we found you just off the coast of North Carolina.”

“North Carolina? That doesn’t sound right. I was on my way to Florence. You can’t take me to Florence can you?”

The woman gave him a sympathetic look. “No sir, but we can drop you off back to shore where you can buy a plane ticket. And can I give you some advice?”

“Okay,” said Will.

“Next time, just take a plane, to begin with.”


End file.
